


No. 6

by thewriterpoe



Category: SHINee
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Semi-Public Sex, het!onkey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6711760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterpoe/pseuds/thewriterpoe





	No. 6

      Gwiboon sees him every Tuesday and Thursday - the man on the number 6 train who looks so beautiful even though he sometimes looks like he wants to kill someone. The corporate women in their pencil skirts and high heels all jostle with each other to be the one who sits next to him. Today it’s a brunette with a low cut blouse. Gwiboon’s just a part-timer at a department store so she can only stare as he shamelessly smiles with the other women: his lips stretching across round, white teeth; his eyes like moon crescents twinkling with delight as he steals glances down her blouse. It's amazing how his face changes when he smiles. Today his hair is loose, falling carelessly over his eyes. It’s long enough that he has to tuck stray strands behind his ear exposing the sharp line of his jaw, which naturally leads to the slow bob of his prominent Adam’s apple as he chuckles.

      _Shit!_ He catches her staring.  

      After a while, Gwiboon’s eyes start to slide back to him back but she stops them because she can feel the weight of his stare on her. She gives it two minutes before she looks at him again. It must have been her imagination because he's talking casually to the brunette. From his body language, he must like her because his body is turned towards hers.

      Scowling, Gwiboon turns her back to them to face the concrete scenery as the train screeches to a halt at Beckwith Street Station. Of course he wouldn’t notice her. In this rush hour crowd filled with successful, good looking women, why would he notice a silly college dropout in an unremarkable navy blue uniform? More people enter the already packed car and she’s squashed against the glass as people jostle their way in or out. She should be used to it, and it's only for fifteen minutes, but it's still annoying because every time someone steps on her foot.

      "Excuse me," someone mutters behind to her as their arm shoots forward to the glass and effectively traps her. She grunts in acknowledgement.

      "You've been staring at me." The words are whispered in her ear, deep and warm. She twists her neck slightly and only needs to see the jaw line to know that it's him. The train lurches forward as it pulls out of the station. Bodies sway violently and an arm wraps around her waist, steadying her. But even as the train now glides along the tracks, the arm remains around her.

      "Is it okay if I do this?" he whispers. "Can I hold you like this?"

      She must be in a daze because she nods and he pulls her closer to him, pressing her back to his front; and she can feel it, his hard-on. His hands start to wander and he's soon cupping her left breast. Gwiboon looks around, alarmed but it seems like no one is paying them any attention.

      "You're not wearing a bra," he states with a smile on his breath. His fingers slip between the buttons of her white button down shirt, capturing a nipple between his index and middle finger, playing with it. She inhales sharply, biting down on her lip afraid to make a sound. In this crowded place, buzzing with chit chat and electronics, it feels like it’s just the two of them.

      "Could it be that you're not wearing panties also?" His hand drops from her breast to the band of my skirt. "You'll let me put my fingers in, won't you?" he asks, taking her earlobe between his teeth.

      He takes her silence as consent and starts to slip his fingers into her underwear but she stops him.

      "No one is looking at us," he half smirks, half whines.

      It's not true. There’s an old woman standing to their left, eyeing them curiously. She can't see the deliciously sinful things he’s doing to her because his trench coat drapes loosely around them but Gwiboon is sure she suspects something. She looks like she's waiting for some kind of signal from her before she unleashes her handbag martial arts skills on him. Gwiboon feels grateful and strangely liberated with this knowledge.

      She loosens her grip on his wrist and immediately his long fingers sink into the warm space between her thighs.

      "Fuck," he hisses. "You're wet. And your thing is swollen." He starts drawing circles around her clit and Gwiboon has to hold on to the window. "Is it good?"

      _So good_ , she replies but it's in her head. His breathing in her ear is so ragged and fuck all if she’s not turned on by it. He presses harder and she starts shaking with the need to moan out loud. This is almost as good as when she first started touching herself. Gwiboon exhales softly as her ass starts to grind against him.

      "You're really good at keeping quiet," he smirks pulling his fingers out. "Next time I'll be sure to make you scream my name."

      Gwiboon frowns when he pushes her away and only belatedly does she realize that it's her stop. It seems he did notice her, at least enough to know her stop. The glass doors close between them and as the train pulls out of the station, she sees him sink his fingers, the ones that had been inside her, between his lips and smile.


End file.
